When we see a rainbowWe count colorsI think not But when rainbows appearI feel that says a lotWhen love comes our wayDo we know that it will last It's probably that rainbow I spoke of with it's colors castLove does that to you now and againIf it's true loveThat rainbow is just around the bendAnd that love you findWill be your rainbow to the end

Man, introverted man, having crossedIn passage and but a little with the nature of things this latter centuryHas begot giants; but being taken upLike a maniac with self-love and inward conflicts can- not manage his hybrids.Being used to deal with edgeless dreams,Now he's bred knives on nature turns them also inward: they have thirsty points though.His mind forebodes his own destruction;Actaeon who saw the goddess naked among leaves and his hounds tore him.A little knowledge, a pebble from a shingle,A drop from the oceans: who would have dreamed this infinitely little too much?

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work--
I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?